Run, dammit, run! Marcus screamed in his head, but to no avail. Frozen by fear and scientific interest, he knew that running would be the best course of action, but where would he go? He did not know the terrain, and if he did take off, what’s not to say something bigger wasn’t waiting for him on the other end? He also knew that a part of him wanted to stay and see what was headed his way.

The thick brush continued to shake harder as each thud loomed closer. Marcus looked left and right, unsure of where to go. He moved a few steps back but was suddenly yanked to the ground and dragged into the bushes. Before Marcus could scream, a rather large hand covered itself on his mouth, silencing any possible noise. His captor drew him closer, and from what Marcus could tell, did not want to hurt him.

The hand was bigger than any Marcus had ever seen, but his curiosity took a pause as the thuds began to get closer, sending Marcus and his new savior off the ground with each step. Then the shaking stopped, and although the view was limited, what stood before him was unmistakable: it was a giant, reptilian claw. His new friend pushed him down even harder, as if to keep Marcus from moving.

No problem, Marcus thought.

A giant yellow eye slowly scanned in front of the bush, causing the hand holding Marcus to increase its grip once more. The eye remained for a few beats but did not approach, then slowly moved away, after which the thuds returned. The hand stayed in place until the earth calmed. It then released him gently and slowly slid away.

Marcus turned and was confronted with the most gorgeous man he had ever seen. Dressed in nothing but a loincloth that exposed almost every inch of his dark, sun-kissed skin, this wild man was covered in muscles from head to toe—the kind of muscles most gym rats would die for. Now he knew why the man’s grip had been so tight. Though his dark hair was a bit unruly, it somehow added to his overall masculine appeal.